


Eros Esoteric

by for_blueskies



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AKA the AU no one asked for, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Angst and Romance, Homophobia, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's realistic ya'll, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trans Character, Victor Nikiforov is Shook, Yuri Katsuki is a Nerd, Yuri Plisetsky is a Brat, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_blueskies/pseuds/for_blueskies
Summary: It was a day like any other, the day Yuri Katsuki's world crumbled. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, got dressed and scrolled through his notifications, a hell of a lot busier than usual. That's when he saw it, and everything ended, just like that.v-nikiforov has requested to follow you.





	1. One

A "usual" outfit, something simple laid out the night before, nothing too extra.  
Apparently Phichit didn't think so.  
"This is totally casual! I'm in _jeans_ , for crying out loud."  
Phichit gave Yuri a long, though not surprised, glance, as if inspecting him. Japanese fashion wasn't something he had ever been able to really wrap his head around, despite living in the city with Yuri during his long visits. As soon as he understood the staples of that season's looks, it changed, leaving Phichit more of an observer than a participant. Phichit really didn't mind, he liked taking pictures of everyone (with their consent, of course), more than he imagined he'd like wearing the stuff.   
Yuri was pretty dressed down, for a normal walk around Fukoko, like normal people, with normal lives, and normal jobs.   
Of course, they were far from normal, but right now, that's beside the point. Yuri Katsuki is a normal guy from Hasetsu with an average job, and Phichit is...well, Phichit is Phichit. He's always been fine in the spotlight. He understood why Yuri wanted to avoid attention, and respected it ~~more or less~~ , but he was okay with the attention, not bothering to disguise or hide himself like Yuri often did.   
"You're around the models too much."  
"You think so?" He scoffed, cleaning his glasses on the hem of his _Star Wars_ tee.  
Yuri is a...let's call him a multi-tasker. He designs and makes his own clothes, as something to do, to keep him busy as well as private. As of now, he's a makeup artist, and is (much to his dismay, and excitement) making a bit of a name for himself with his designs. Phichit is a photographer, almost always traveling to red carpet events, participating in premiers and interviews as much as he can.   
He stands from the little bench next to Yuri's front door and stretches. "I think it's good for you."  
The look Yuri gives him makes him snort and shove at him playfully. "Don't look at me like that."  
Yuri reaches for his hoodie, hesitates, and leaves it, sighing and cracking his knuckles. "I need katsudon."  
"You always need katsudon." Phichit smiles, giving Yuri a mental pat on the back for leaving his coping mechanism behind. "You might turn into a literal pork cutlet if you eat too much of it."   
Yuri walks ahead of Phichit with a forced, obviously sarcastic laugh. "Funny, Peach."  
"Why do you call me that?" He whined, following Yuri outside and waiting while he locked his door behind him.   
"You're sweet."  
"Aw." Phichit pretends to swoon. "That's so nice Yu-"  
"And your cheeks are chubby. I could call you a hamster, now that I think about it."  
"Nevermind. How about we take a selfie, Yuri?"  
"You're always taking selfies."   
"I know! My followers like to hear about my friends, and as my _best friend_ -" Phichit elbows him lightly and flutters his lashes at him. "-it's practically _criminal_ there aren't more pictures of you on my profile."  
"You reek of ulterior motives."   
Phichit's brows furrow together, and he smells the neck of his shirt. "Is it a _good_ smell?"  
Yuri laughs, giving in and leaning closer to Phichit with an "Alright."  
They take a few, and Phichit spends the rest of the walk through and out of Yuri's apartment building talking about which ones he likes best, reminding Yuri that the best model for his designs would be himself, and he just so happens to have a photographer for a best friend.   
"I couldn't, I'm camera shy, Phichit, you know that."  
"But photogenic as all get out, you can't deny it."  
"I can, I will, and-" he pauses, for dramatic effect. "I am."  
"Liar."  
"I look good in pictures with you, I won't deny that, but I'm cursed forever to take blurry selfies."  
"Use the Snapchat camera." Phichit tips his head back, looking at the sky. "I think it's gonna rain soon."  
"We can stop for lunch if it does. There are places everywhere to run into if it comes down."  
They walk for a while, Yuri squinting against the sun, which is bright as ever, despite the clouds looming ahead. He talks about inspiration for a few new designs, but Phichit notices they're all pretty weak, compared to his usual.   
"My muse must be on vacation." He laughs.   
"I hope she comes back soon."  
Yuri hesitates, and Phichit opens his mouth to ask what's up, but Yuri distracts him with food.   
"Tell me if you want to go to the Yatai stalls tonight, instead of _ditching_ me." Yuri furrows his brows as he eats, sending his friend an accusing stare.   
"I thought you were sleeping!"  
"I always wake up for food."  
Phichit laughs again. "That quote is going on Twitter."  
"It better not!"  
"Too late. Consider it in my drafts."  
Phichit takes out his phone, and Yuri fights the urge to take it, until he saw that Twitter wasn't the app open.   
"On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I told a friend about your sweet skills?"  
Yuri freezes. " _Which_ sweet skills?"  
"Not your alcohol tolerance, if that's what you're suspecting." Phichit grins mischievously.   
"What did you do?" He asks weakly.   
"Remember those themed designs and makeup you did? The movie and game ones."  
Yuri narrows his eyes. "Which friend?"  
"A friend. He showed _his_ friend, who has a friend who works for-"  
"Phichit." Yuri's voice came out in a weak, cracked, whisper. It felt like his throat was closing up. "How many people know?"  
Phichit's smile faded, becoming more hopeful and apologetic than the last. "Yuri Plisetsky."  
" _What_?"  
"He liked it! Word got passed down to me about it, he said he'd wear your _Star Wars_ design. I didn't think it'd get that far, honest."  
Yuri was kind of relieved, but also horrified. It's so easy for people to get access to things over the internet. If anyone knew he, a twenty-three year old man, made clothes for fun, _feminine clothes for fun_ \- he could almost hear the taunts.   
"It'll be okay, Yuri. I'm sorry."  
"It's...it's fine." Yuri smiles. "Let's just look for a new movie to watch." He sends a quick prayer in thanks that he uses a pen-name for his designs and finishes his snack.   
"What kind of movie do you want to see?"  
Yuri shrugs.   
"What movie _haven't_ you seen?" Phichit laughs. "We _could_ watch _Harry Potter_ again."  
"I watched them last night."   
"Wait, _them_? You binge watched them?"   
Yuri has always been a night owl, so it wasn't at all surprising to hear he had pulled another all-nighter. "I did. I was hoping to get some inspiration or _something_." He shrugged. "I sketched some house designs, but it's nothing I haven't done before. Then I ran out of chores to do."   
Phichit almost pitied him. Yuri had a complex mind, to say the least. He needed to be busy, to distract himself from whatever else he was dealing with.   
"You're welcome to come over and clean my place." Phichit teased.   
His friend only shrugged in response, and that made Phichit worry.   
"How are your parents?"  
Yuri hesitated before shrugging again. "They're alright. The hot spring got busy, so I haven't really spoken with them in a while."  
"How are your nerves?"  
"My nerves?" Yuri cocks a brow and eyes Phichit for a minute. "I'm fine."  
" _Okay_." He puts his hands in his pockets. "You can talk to me, though. I'd be kind of disappointed if you didn't." He watches Yuri as he speaks, making sure he knows he's serious.   
"I appreciate it."  
They walk for a while, stopping in a few video stores, picking out cheap DVD's that looked cool, checking out the posters to burn time.   
When the sun started to go down, and the Yatai stalls began to open, Yuri was all but dragged between them. Phichit was almost always taking a picture of something, but when Yuri spoke, the phone disappeared. He liked that a lot about Phichit, his respect for others, despite his almost insatiable curiosity. They ate until they were full, and laughed until their sides hurt and tears formed at the corners of their eyes, stumbling through fits of giggles between inside jokes. Yuri was happier that night than he had been in a while, and the feeling of being full (both physically and emotionally) gave him a surge of much needed confidence.   
He missed these feelings.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri finds his muse, and a new outlet in the form of self-deprecating humor and sarcasm. 
> 
> tw?: anxiety mention.  
> It's a huge part of Yuuri's character, ya'll. Things will happen that trigger him, or make him uncomfortable, those same things might have the same effect on you. Also, let me know if it's easier for me to write Yuri (Katsuki)'s name with two u's.

As per Phichit's _encouragement_ , Yuri decided to make an Instagram. The boy had been gone for almost a week now, yet it seemed as if he had never left. It's not like he hadn't been exposed to social media before. He was the proud, but anonymous, owner of _two_ fan accounts, a personal (again, _totally_ anonymous) Tumblr, and he _did_ have Twitter. He supposed Twitter didn't really count, since he was never on it, but those other three, those were _real_ and _his_ , he managed them well and spoke to people and answered questions- so why was making an _Instagram_ so difficult?"

 _I'll never put photos of myself up._ He decided. _Any photos will have to be taken by Phichit, he'll just tag me, it's no big deal. No one_ needs _to see my face, anyway._

The moment he had an account set up, he sent a follow request to Phichit, who almost immediately called him. Yuri was surprised, to say the least. 

"Is something wrong?"

"You did it! Is this you who just followed me?"

"You already got the notification?" Yuri would've been lying if he said he wasn't a little _afraid_ of Phichit sometimes. "You could've just sent me a text." He sighed. 

"Do you need help writing a bio? What about a picture? I'll send you the ones I took today and you can post them!"

Yuri opened his mouth to protest, but closed it quickly, weighing his argument. "I don't know how I feel about my face being online." He confessed. 

"For privacy reasons, or self conscious reasons?"

"Is there a difference?" Yuri laughed weakly and got up, trying to decide on what he should make for lunch. 

"I wonder if it's a Japanese thing, being so reserved."

"We aren't a _hivemind_ , Phichit." Yuri rolled his eyes with a laugh. "It's a me thing." 

Phichit apologized, and after Yuri insisted it was alright, he asked about his workload. 

"I'm not too busy now." Yuri shrugged, opening his fridge and looking around the half-eaten take out boxes. "I've got a commission for a woman in America to work on. No no, it's nothing complicated, a basic Sailor Moon cosplay." He shrugged and propped the fridge open. _Might as well clean this up._

Phichit asked how commissions worked. He asked a _lot_ about how they worked, which seemed suspicious, to say the least. He was a genuinely curious person, always wanting to know as much as he could, but these questions were more _technical_ than his usual inquiries. 

"Maybe you can post your works in progress, it might help out with business."

"Good point." Yuri held the phone between his cheek and shoulder, taking out as much as he could and moving it to the counter closest to him. 

"You can follow a lot of different designers and celebrities, too, for inspiration."

"Also a good point." Yuri closed the fridge and started to throw out boxes, scraped out food from bowls and stacked them in the sink. "Who should I follow?" He thought immediately of a few designers he looked up to a lot, making a mental list. 

"Well, Victor Nikiforov has an Instagram." 

Yuri froze. "Who?"

" _Yuri_ , come on. _That_ Victor Nikiforov. The figure skater?"

"O-oh. That one."

"He models a bit, now. You knew about his break, right?"

He did. He knew why and when and where, he knew exactly when he sent out the announcement tweet, too. "I didn't."

_Liar._

"Well, I'd follow him. Follow Yuri Plisetsky, too."

"I will." He took a moment to steady himself, leaning on the counter. 

"Do you want me to send those pictures?"

"U-uh, sure. Thank you."

"No problem! I'll talk to you soon."

"Bye."

"Wait, Yuri! Before you go- I'm proud of you for stepping out a bit."

Yuri smiled softly. "Baby steps."

"Baby steps." Phichit repeated, cheerful in his tone. "I'll talk to you soon!"

Phichit hung up first, and Yuri straightened, looking at the ceiling. Apparently Yuri had said something after one too many glasses of champagne that left its mark on Phichit, who made it a point from that moment on to tell Yuri when he noticed something worth praising.

_You're lucky to have him around._

There was a happiness that bubbled up in him, filled him with warmth and made him feel taller. He was quick to finish cleaning and clean up, leaving his jacket behind again as he headed outside. He needed cold air, craved it, the way plants lean toward the sun. 

He was at his happiest in autumn, with the crisp air nipping at exposed skin, turning his nose and ears pink. He didn't have much time until the cold faded, however, so he wanted to be outside as much as possible. He put his hands in his pockets, looking at the shop windows as he walked, checking out clothes in shop windows and checking his phone every so often. 

Phichit had sent the pictures, as he said he would, and Yuri took a minute to really look at them. He usually looked good in whatever pictures he took with Phichit, but these were...he looked _beautiful_ , in a _feminine_ kind of way. There was absolutely nothing wrong with looking feminine, of course, but-

"Excuse me, sir." 

Yuri jumped, quickly sidestepping the stranger behind him, _right into the person next to him_. "I'm so sorry!" Yuri all but yelled, bowing quickly. "I'm sorry- are you o-"

_Oh no._

**_Oh no._ **

He was shorter in person, but not much shorter than he was. He was also scarier than Yuri would've imagined, Yuri Plisetsky. 

"I'm so sorry!"

Yuri bowed again, and without another word, scurried away. He was shaking as he dialed Phichit's number, fumbling through broken English. "I bumped into Yuri Plisetsky!" 

"No way! That's great!"

"No! I _bumped into him_! I stepped onto him, actually. I _stepped on_ Yuri Plisetsky!"

"Oh no."

"Right? Jesus, I'm going to flee the country."

"I'll send you care packages."

"Phichit!"

" _Two_ care packages?"

"What do I do?"

"What's done is done, Yuri. I know it was super embarrassing, and public, and you want to crawl under a rock- but what's done is done. You apologized, right?"

"Of course." Yuri sighed.

"No one got hurt, right?"

"No." He answered weakly. 

"Then you did the right thing. No one's hurt, you apologized, it was an accident. I'd say you're good to go. No prison for you, Katsuki."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for calling so suddenly."

"It's no problem. Happy to be of service." He could head Phichit's laugh on the other end, happy as always. "Are you alright?"

"I am, thank you. I'm going to head off. I need-"

"Katsudon." Phichit finished with a giggle. "Have a good night, Yuri."

"I will. Thanks."

They disconnected, and Yuri sat on a bench a few blocks further down the street, distracting himself by messing around with the settings on Instagram. He set a photo of Phichit and himself as a profile picture, followed a few designers, and put his phone away. There was a place he went to every now and then that made good katsudon, but he needed more of a distraction.

Grocery store it is.

 

-

  
 

The walk home was an awkward one, always afraid of seeing Yuri Plisetsky again. He wasn't called the Russian Punk for no reason. 

 _What's he even doing here?_   Yuri asked himself, keeping his eyes to the ground. He didn't have the energy to make up a scenario for the teen's sudden appearance, and frankly, he would've been too awestruck to do so, anyway. Plisetsky was a huge name in the figure skating world, with his age and reputation. 

He thought back to when _he_ was fifteen, trying to skate on his own. Part of him wanted to laugh, part of him wanted to cower, as if others around him had seen the embarrassing thought. He wanted to be extraordinary like Victor Nikiforov when he grew up, maybe meet him, ask him to sign his notebook and show it off to his classmates.

The memory made him scoff, and his stomach curl in on itself. 

He wasn't extraordinary, hell, he wasn't even good, but he remembered trying his damnedest, every day for hours on end alone in that rink. He remembered the bruises from falling, the struggle to walk afterwards. He wanted someone to be proud of him, but more than that, he wanted to be proud of himself. 

He wasn't particularly gifted with anything, though he wasn't behind in anything, either. Sewing was easy for him, so that's something, and makeup is...well, it's makeup. He used to put makeup on his sister all the time when they were younger, and she'd do the same to him. He remembered how awful it always turned out, her wide, fake smile as she admired her new look. It made him think of the first model he ever did makeup for-

He could feel himself slowing in pace, and realizing how dark his thoughts had become, he shook his head, taking a moment to breathe. He tried to stay out of the way, and checked his phone as he walked. 

People had sent him a few other messages, and he had an alarming amount of follow requests already. 

He stopped, stepped to the side, and unlocked his phone. 

Four _hundred_ requests, actually. He hadn't posted anything yet, he hadn't even added a bio- 

 ** _Phichit_**.

He checked Twitter. Of course Phichit had given Yuri a shoutout, bragging about his capability, posting a few pictures of the models' costumes he made, and makeup they wore. Reading the compliments made him feel kind of warm, but it also _horrified_ him. Phichit had used Yuri's pen name, thank goodness. 

_You should thank him later._

Yuri liked the tweet, posted a soft reply of thanks, took a moment to stretch his legs, and started the walk home. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but Yuri ignored it.

He probably shouldn't have stopped for a break, anyway, with raw chicken in his basket. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at himself for being so irresponsible. 

His phone buzzed again, and Yuri checked the screen. 

_Does Victor Nikiforov is gay?_

Yuri groaned so loudly the people around him turned to stare. He walked faster, unlocking his phone. 

_How high are you?_

_Read the article!_

There was a link posted after Phichit's first message, but Yuri refused to check it. He didn't want to bump into anyone again. He imagined how awful it'd be to bump into the other Yuri again, the thought making him cringe and move faster.

He didn't even try to contain the heavy sigh of relief when he saw the door to his apartment, all but running towards the safety and comfort of his dark room and charged game controller.

He was quick to cook, cleaning as he went. The sound of water always did something to calm him, in all its forms. He wished it would rain soon, and wondered about going home to visit the hot spring. 

He thought of the katsudon his mother made, with the same ingredients, in the same way, though it somehow always tasted better. There was this bowl he used to use as a child that she still had, and when he came to visit, almost everything he ate came from it. He thought about how embarrassed he used to be to see all of his old things placed carefully in boxes or totes, drawings and cards in binders protected with plastic sheets. He was thankful for it now. All of those poorly drawn portraits and random 'I love you's on sticky notes in nearly illegible kanji. 

As his food was cooking, he checked his phone, reading through the comments on Twitter. 

 _Great concept! I love this design._  
 _I can see the Alexander McQueen inspiration here_ (they even tagged Alexander McQueen's official. He could feel his soul ascending) and a few requests. 

The feedback on just these few pieces (which weren't his best, he could admit it) was definitely encouraging. He felt his mood brighten as the compliments and encouraging words kept coming, and decided to send Phichit a quick 'thank you' message. 

His books were buried under other papers, discarded designs and receipts from fabric stores. He gathered them in his arms and went back to the kitchen so he could eat without risk of making a mess in the living room. He flipped through old designs as he ate, taking pieces from dresses he liked, colors from seasonal outfits, trims and embellishments he didn't feel really _went_ with anything, but liked as well. 

He ended up drawing a few new patterns, mostly dresses and skirts, his safe zone, but in combinations he hadn't tried before. He wasn't big on box pleats, personally. They felt so overdone, too easy, but high waisted, a shorter length, with a heavier fabric...

It wasn't original.  _Try to change the length, floor length, shorter in the front. Use black on the outside, a rose print on the inside, thicker lining, accent waistband._

He liked it.  _Could make it a dress, could keep it as a skirt._

His phone rang, and without taking his eyes from the skirt, afraid he'd lose his train of thought, he answered. "Hello?"

"Your pieces got a bit more attention than I expected!" 

He was glad to hear Phichit. "Hey, they did, huh?"

"You sound so serious! What're you up to?"

"I'm designing, actually." Yuri confessed with a smile. "Say, what would you finish an high-low skirt?"

"I'm gonna need more details." He hummed. 

"High waisted, floor length, I'm thinking of using an accent fabric for the waistband, and keeping it black, lining it with something floral, maybe a vintage rose design?"

"I have _almost_ no idea what that means. By finish you mean-?"

Yuri straightened. "I can double fold it to hem, maybe if I add a layer of chiffon on the outside it'd flow better."

Phichit gave him a "mhm." and sighed, seeming pleased. "Chiffon is that kind of transparent thin stuff, right? It definitely flows." He hummed again. "What about using it for the top half? If you're making this a dress, I mean."

Yuri nodded, sketching again. "That's a great idea! Maybe use it for the sleeves?" He let the eraser of his pencil rest against his lips. "Bishop sleeves would do it justice, I think."

"You said this was black, right?"

"Yep." Yuri continued to draw, only half listening to Phichit. "Why?"

"I'm challenging you here, but bear with me."

Yuri froze. "What'd you do?"

"I haven't done anything-" He laughed. "Try designing in color."

"That's risky as hell, though." He sighed. 

"I believe in you! I'm here if you need help figuring out red from orange." 

"I can't tell if you're being genuine or teasing me."

"Love you too. Keep sketching, okay! I'm glad you're getting back into it."

"Thanks for the publicity." He laughed, turning his back to his book, leaning against the counter. 

"You don't hate my guts for throwing you into the limelight?"

"Oh no, I do." Yuri laughed again. "It's good for me, though. I appreciate it."

"Any time."

"Just this once is good, thank you."

They said their goodbyes, and Yuri stared back at his design. Inspiration hadn't hit him that hard in a hot minute, but Phichit's words were quickly drowning it out. 

Designing in color? There's no way he could do that. He tried once, and the colors all clashed awfully- it haunted him for _weeks_.

He finished the sketch, and then took a few notes for fabric options. 

Of course, Yuri Katsuki, the human embodiment of anxiety and hungriest in his family for design- was color blind. God had a nasty sense of humor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to be posting this so late! College and the like.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's canon (as of the blu-ray vol. 1 booklet) that Victor speaks fluent French.  
> One of Switzerland's official languages also happens to be French, so expect to hear (read?) some French speaking Victor and Christophe! I'll add translations to any non-English words in the ending note.

Victor is many things. 

Beyond handsome, ambitious, some would argue dense- and passionate, he is human. He gets tired, moody, bored, and sometimes he gets a _really_ bad case of resting bitch face. 

Paired with his thick Russian accent, Victor is also currently _unapproachable_. He swears if he hears 'smile' one more time he might snap. 

Chris enters the room in his usual flamboyant way, announcing his presence and receiving a few almost-cheek-kisses from the interns nearby. Victor would be lying if he said he wasn't incredibly relieved to see his friend, but he remained in place, as if his shoes were nailed to the floor. 

"Take ten!" The photographer sighs loudly, allowing Chris to give her a half hug before retreating, two assistants following close behind. 

"Your bags are _designer_ , Nikiforov." Chris puts his hands over Victor's cheeks, tugging at the bottom of his eyes with his thumbs. "How long has it been since you slept?"

"What's sleep?" Victor smiles softly. 

Chris rolls his eyes. "I brought you coffee." 

Chris was a model before he got into skating, and while he was skating, Victor had _no_ idea how the hell he managed. He remembered Chris being so energized during competitions, and almost glowing on runways. 

"How did you manage this?" Victor takes the coffee and thanks him. 

"You'll need to be a bit more specific." He almost scoffs, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall closest to them. 

"The modeling, and the skating."

"Good wine and better sex, my friend." Chris cocks a brow, and when Victor doesn't laugh, his expression falls flat. "This really _is_ taking a toll on you, isn't it?"

"I like doing this, but it's exhausting. It's almost not worth the pin pricks."

"Or the normal pricks." 

This time, Victor does laugh, and Chris smiles. "I wasn't joking about the wine and sex, you know."

"Seriously?"

Chris nodded. "Red wine is good for your heart, so is a _partner_." He gave Victor a weary look, one that he shook off right away. "Models need muses, too."

"Why would I need a muse? My only job is staying fit and looking good enough for Photoshop to save me."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, mon chou."

"Hush." Victor takes another long sip of his coffee, looking away. 

"Take a day to recover after this, find inspiration somewhere, something beautiful to aspire to be."

Victor hummed, keeping the cup to his lips to avoid speaking. 

"Take a walk around the city, try not to get bumped into."

Victor lowered his cup, straightening up. "I _swear_ he did that on purpose."

Chris snorts, straightening up and taking the cup from Victor. "I'm adding alcohol to this."

"Chris, I mean it! Why is he like that?"

"Maybe _you_ should confront _him_. That's why you're here, isn't it?"

 

* * *

 

"Nothing goes with orange!" Yuri points his phone towards the fabric swatches before him, flipping through a few of them in frustration. 

"That's pink, Yuri." 

Yuri squints. "Is it really?"

Mari sighs. "I'm on my way."

"W-wait Mari!"

"Nope. You better have something there for me to use as an ashtray this time." 

Yuri fumbles out of his corner in the living room, opening a few windows to let some air in before his sister destroys it. "I do."

"Good. Minako wants to know what you're up to, by the way. What should I tell her?"

"Don't tell her I'm designing!"

"She says she's glad you're designing." 

Yuri pauses to glare at his phone, left discarded by the fabric and on speaker. "You know, I've always wanted to be an only child."

"You love me. I'll be there in twenty." Before Yuri can protest, Mari disconnects, and Yuri sits on the couch, wondering how the hell _anyone_ does this. He did love his sister, beyond the cigarette smell and salty attitude, she cared for him more than anyone else, and was always there to help him when life delivered a swift kick to the groin.

He took a minute to tidy things up before she got to his place, and made sure to set out _several_ small dishes she could use as ashtrays. 

"Who told you to design in color?" She asked as she swung the door open, making Yuri screech and clap his hands over his chest. 

"Mari!"

"What? If you don't want me to come in you should lock the door." She set her gym bag on the floor by the door and took off her shoes before walking into the living room. "Where are the swatch things?"

He needed a minute to settle himself, and pointed towards the taller table against the back of the shorter of his two couches. "Minako didn't come with you?"

Mari sighed, taking the fabric and walking around to the couch to take a seat. "I distracted her with sales." She looked up from the fabric with a bored expression. "You're welcome."

Yuri laughed and moved to sit by her. "Do any of those go together?"

She shrugged weakly. "This blue and green, in a weird kind of way." She tips her head to the side and purses her lips. "Like a dress you'd put a toddler in before Easter mass."

Yuri snorts and leans back, glaring at the ceiling. "I'll stick to monochrome."

"Think of how it'd be though, a designer who's completely colorblind, making these-" she made a gesture almost resembling an explosion. "-amazing designs! What if you design for celebrities one day?" She gasped and sat up quickly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "You can _do_ that, Yuri! You have the talent, and the drive, don't say you don't. What if you made something for _him_?"

Yuri narrowed his eyes, a bit frightened by his sister's sudden attitude change. "What's really in those cigarettes?"

"Yuri, I mean it! Doesn't that sound amazing?"

"Of course it does, but there's a lot of pressure in going professional."

"You don't have to present the stuff every time someone wears it, you know."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "I don't know where you're going with this."

"Who do you design for?"

"What?"

Mari stared him down, as big sisters often do, her gaze powerful and seemingly omniscient. "She was right."

"What?" Yuri repeated. "Are you drunk or something?"

"Of course not." Mari scoffed, crossing her arms. "Can I ask you a question?"

Yuri waits. Even if he says no, she's going to ask him anyway. 

"They make glasses for your...situation. You know about it, right?"

"They probably wouldn't do much, considering how little I already see."  

"So you've looked into it?" Mari seemed to grow an almost triumphant air then, leaning against the couch cushions. 

"Of course." Yuri hesitates again. "There are some things I'd rather not see in such a vivid way, though."

"That's understandable." She shrugged, leafing through the fabric swatches absentmindedly. "But there are many things you would want to."

He shrugs, standing to make some tea to busy himself. "Yeah."

"Do you see your monochromacy as a disability?"

He had his back to her, so she didn't see him pause, hand hovering for a moment over the 'on' button of his Keurig, but he knew she could feel the uneasiness of the question seeping from him. "More of a hindrance." He pushed the button, and the machine gave a low hum as it warmed up. He took a soda from the fridge and walked back to Mari, handing it to her. 

"Aren't disabilities hindrances?" She thanked him and opened the can, taking a long sip. 

"I can see, even if it's not in color. I can walk and talk and make things on my own. That makes me a lot better off than others with real disabilities."

"I see." She nods and gives her can a little half smile. "Atlas must be jealous of the muscle in your shoulders."

Yuri scoffed at the expression and turned around, heading back into the kitchen. "You think so?"

"No. You look like a bean sprout."

Yuri looked over his shoulder to shoot his sister a playful glare before making a cup of tea and returning once again to the living room. 

"You should come to the hot spring for a weekend, take a break from the city."

"I've been thinking about it." Yuri did miss Hatsetsu, the quiet and calm of the neighborhood, the ice rink he spent so long practicing in. "How busy will it be next weekend?"

Mari shrugged. "We've got like, ten, so far."

Yuri nodded. _I could use a break._ He looked around the living room, the piles of fabric and baskets of sewing supplies. Everything in his house seemed half done. _Break from what?_

"What you asked me earlier, about who I design for..."

Mari hummed. "Yes?"

"I don't know." He furrowed his brows. "I want people to see what I make and be happy, and feel confident when they wear it. So," He looked from his tea to his sister. "I do it for everyone, I guess."

Mari smiled, looking almost sad. "That's something you'd do."

He was about to ask what caused her brows to furrow, that empathetic look in her eyes she always held when she couldn't meet his own- but she stood and moved to the corner of the room Yuri had been pinning a mock-up dress in. 

"What's this? Something new, I think."

"Yeah." Yuri stands up, deciding to ask her some other time, and with his free hand, he motions around the dress, explaining what will go where, which fabric he's thinking of using. 

"And you wanted this to be in color?"

Yuri nodded. "I understand why the woman at the counter looked so confused when I checked out." He smiled sheepishly. "I just went by touch."

She returns to the fabric swatches, and walks back to the dress with it. "I wish I knew how to help you be more independent about this."

It was incredibly odd for Mari to voice an inability to do something. She was one of those 'try harder until you get it' types, never one to admit defeat. "It's fine."

"It isn't. I'm going to do all that I can for you, Yuri." 

She still wasn't meeting his eyes, but her expression was calm, and her voice even. "What about people makes you want to design for them?"

Yuri opened his mouth, shut it, and hesitated. What kind of question was that?

"Their happiness."

"What color do you think happiness is?"

Yuri's brows shoot up. "Well...why not all of them?"

Mari smiles, putting one hand on her hip. "Sounds good to me."

"Wait, what?"

"Make a pride piece."

"A what?"

"A rainbow thing. Pride. You're bisexual, at the _very_ least, it'll be good for you."

"I am _not_."

Mari scoffs, rolls her eyes, and disguises a sarcastic "Okay." with a sip of her soda.

"There's nothing wrong with liking guys, Yuri. _I_ like guys."

"You're a girl, it's normal for you to like men."

Mari's sudden anger shocks Yuri into almost dropping his cup. 

"Being straight isn't normal, it's common."

"Fine, fine. I'll make a pride thing."

Mari smiles again and starts to head towards the kitchen. "Good. I have new plans to help you, so clean this place up and get some sleep. We're going shopping in a few hours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mon chou: sweetie, sweetheart, essentially a term of endearment   
> ________________
> 
> It's surprisingly hard to describe color to someone who's never seen it. I can say 'the color of apples' and you'd probably think of red, but to someone who's only seen any and all apples in a dark grey...?   
> Mari's got her work cut out for her.


	4. Four

Victor is an advocate for retail therapy. If there were a club for it, he'd be president. 

He's also a fan of small, almost cramped places. Not like closets, or small cars, but cities. He likes being in a place packed with people, he likes that he can sort of nestle in wherever there's an empty space and move with the flow. 

That flow is disturbed by noise. Not the normal conversation, but...bickering? Victor looks to either side, expecting to see an old couple or young siblings, what he doesn't expect is Yuri, dragged by the wrist by a woman maybe two years his senior. 

Part of him deflates, but then he notices the bag in Yuri's free hand.

A slow smile splits Victor's bored expression, and mood, straight through the middle. That's a _lot_ of fabric. 

He sidesteps out of the crowd, watching curiously. He could approach the guy, sure, but what if he freaked out? There weren't many people who knew him that didn't panic when Victor came up to them. He needed to be careful with this one. 

He felt more like a big rock in the river now, rather than one of the paper boats that went with it. Yuri seemed to be one of those boats, and the longer Victor stood there, the farther downstream Yuri seemed to go.

Victor turned and walked the other way.

He lifted his phone and swiped through his apps until he found what he was looking for. He drafted a quick message, hit send, and put his phone away, looking for someplace with sweets. 

 

-

 

Phichit should've been doing homework. He should've been doing a lot of things, actually, but mindlessly scrolling through Twitter was just _too_ tempting. He would've swiped the Instagram notification away before reading it, but stopped just short, the weight of his finger on the screen making the box a bit bigger. 

_That definitely says v-nikiforov._

Phichit sits up, clicks the notification, gets out of bed, reads, panics, and then sits back down. He reads the message again, stands back up, and pinches himself. 

 _Hey, Phichit. I'm Victor Nikiforov_  
_You already knew that. Never mind._  
_I've been keeping tabs on Yuri and his designs, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in his direction. Is he planning to design full time, or is this just a hobby?_

Victor is interested in his designs. Victor wants to know what Yuri's plan is. Victor's been keeping tabs on Yuri.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, but when three little dots appeared at the base of the screen, he was suddenly hyper-sensitive to his surroundings. 

_I hope to see more from him soon_

Phichit _immediately_ calls Yuri. He has a whole speech planned out, full of encouragement and "guess what he said"'s and "you can do this" and "what's next?", but the minute Yuri answers, a pleasant but seemingly rushed "Hey, P.", he loses it.

"What's going on? Any designs coming up?"

He can almost hear Yuri's smile. "Actually yeah, a pride piece."

Phichit's eyes widen. "Pride, like, with the-"

"Rainbow, yeah." Yuri finishes with a short laugh. "Mari's forced me to."

" _Persuaded_." she corrects in the background. 

Phichit smiles. "Keep me, and your _fans_ , updated!"

Yuri scoffs, and Mari chides him somewhere in the distance. 

"You've got a new fan, actually. I think you'd like to keep him updated, too."

"Who?" 

"Oh, no one special." Phichit pretends to inspect his nails. "Someone with more fashion expertise than me, though."

"You'll have to narrow the list a bit." Yuri's voice is dripping with confident sarcasm and Phichit can't even fire back a comment. It wasn't often Yuri got into that mood, and he couldn't say it wasn't refreshing to hear it. 

"Victor Nikiforov."

There was such a prolonged silence on the other end, Phichit checked his phone to be sure he hadn't lost signal. 

"Yuri?"

"Who?"

"Victor Nikiforov."

"Oh."

Mari was saying something Phichit couldn't quite make out. "Yuri?"

"Like, actually Victor Nikiforov?"

"Yes!" Phichit laughed. "Aren't you excited! He's keeping tabs on your designs! He said, and I quote-" he cleared his throat and put on his best (though admittedly awful) Russian accent. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in his direction. I hope to see more from him soon."

The long pause that followed made Phichit very _very_ anxious. "Yuri? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I just...um...I'm okay."

He recognized that voice. The 'I'm not fine and everything hurts' voice. "Yuri, say something."

"I need to go."

Before Phichit could apologize or get out a snarky remark, Yuri hung up (which he _never_ does), leaving Phichit alone with an obnoxious dial tone. 

He replied to Victor's message quickly before turning his screen off and leaving his phone on the bed, walking to his long abandoned homework. 

_Thank you. I do, too_

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyy~! Thanks (again) to Hayul, whose reaction to this AU inspired me to write it ^^


End file.
